Alfons and Alphonse
by xSlytherclaWx
Summary: Alfons Heidrich was much more like Alphonse Elric than Edward was willing to admit. Not yaoi, not Elricest, not AlHei. Seriously, who thought of AlHei? Just friendship, brotherliness, and some angst.


_This is the result of my newest obsession, which is all thanks to my friend Evie. I think that this is the first or second time I've written Hei, but I'm not sure, since I've got about six documents featuring him on my computer. This is anime-verse, obviously, and, yeah, I can't think of anything else that I need to say. Oh yeah, it should be obvious, but "bruder" is German for "brother."_

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Alfons and Alphonse_**

Alfons Heidrich was much more like Alphonse Elric than Edward was willing to admit.

There were the superficial things, of course. Like the fact that they looked almost identical – save the fact that Alfons had light blond hair and green-blue eyes – whereas Alphonse had light brown hair and hazel-gold eyes. They were both taller than Edward (even in their childhood, Alphonse – who was a year younger – had almost always been his height or a little bit taller, not that Ed would admit it).

Then, there were the undeniable facts. They were both loyal, and generally nice and patient – though if you got them angry, well, they weren't quite as bad as Edward, but they still were something to be reckoned with. They both loved science – Alfons loved physics, mechanics, and rocketry, while Alphonse loved alchemy, but those were still branches of science. When they loved something – or someone – they were absolutely passionate about it, putting everything they had into it… even if it killed them.

Not to mention that they could both put up with Edward for extended periods of time – which was certainly no easy feat. Sure, Ed could tell that he drove them both crazy sometimes – but his best friend and his brother were the only people that could put up with him so… _well_. Mustang would smirk and give some snide remark, and even Winry was prone to throwing a wrench at his head. Alfons and Alphonse did no such thing. They indulged him. Alfons let Edward ramble on about his world – even if they both knew that Alfons didn't believe him. Alphonse put up with Ed's short rants and fighting – and held him back when he needed it.

There were the little things, too. The things that Ed wasn't so sure about – and if he was sure, these were the things that he tried to deny. They both had a soft spot for stray animals – especially cats. Ed had always known that about Alphonse – but after about a week of living with Alfons, his friend brought home a half-starved kitten. Ed had denied it at first – because they looked alike, surely, and they even acted similar, but… this was almost a cruel mockery. Alfons commented on how his older brother had never let him keep any cats – he said that he lived with his brother after their mother died during the Spanish Influenza outbreak.

"What happened to your brother?"

Ed had known at once that he'd said the wrong thing, because Alfons stiffened. "He died last year."

Last year? Wasn't that when Edward had come over? If Alfons looked so much like Alphonse, suppose that Alfons's brother looked like him, which would mean… no. Edward wasn't going to consider that possibility. So Ed muttered an apology, meaning it. There had been a time when he couldn't imagine life without Alphonse – but now… it was hard. He couldn't imagine what Alfons must be going through – because at least Ed had hope that _his_ brother was _alive_, even if he was somewhere where Ed may not be able to reach him.

There were things that Ed didn't notice – some of them, traits that he _refused_ to notice. The way Alfons's voice fluctuated when he was excited was so close to the way Alphonse's voice had risen and fallen when he had been excited back in Amestris. The indulging look on Alfons's face when Edward told stories of back home was nearly identical to the one Alphonse had worn when they were younger and Edward had some insane theory. Once, Alfons had slipped when he was half-passed out from a night at the Beer Hall – and had called Edward "Bruder." Edward had been too drunk himself to remember, but the next morning, he was certain that Alfons called him "Edoo-art" rather than "Edvahrt" – a small difference that he would later forget.

When Edward had hesitantly asked Alfons about his childhood, Alfons had given him a _very_ brief summary: his father left around 1914, when he was six, and his mother had died of the Spanish Influenza in 1918, when he was eight, and his brother – whose name he would not mention – had taken care of him until he was fifteen, when he left to try to help him – with something that Alfons would not elabourate upon.

Then he mentioned the girl who'd lived next door.

Wilhelmine Raskoph – who was excessively pretty – blonde hair and blue eyes – and had always had the attention of both Alfons and his brother. Her father had gone off to fight in the War – and her mother had gone off to be a nurse – and they never came back. Wilhelmine left to live with her grandmother in Berlin – and Alfons hadn't seen her since. Wilhelmine wasn't like other girls, Alfons stressed. She was pretty, and kind, but she had a temper that was only comparable to his brother's – and Edward's, now that he thought on it – and she loved science more than any girl should have.

"That was what attracted me to her," Alfons mused. "She was clever, too. Gott, I wonder what happened to her. She'd be seventeen now."

"You liked her."

"Of course I did. But my brother liked her more, and she liked him, so I stepped out of the way. I wonder if she knows about what happened."

Alfons abruptly stood up and went off to his room at that point, returning with a picture. In it were three small children. It was in black and white, and they were dressed in their best clothes, but the resemblances made Edward audibly gasp.

"That's my brother and I with Wilhelmine. It's the only picture I have of the three of us, and the only one I have of her."

She looked just like Winry had when they were little. And Alfons had looked just like Alphonse… and his brother…

It was almost like looking at a picture of his own childhood.

He bit his tongue and refused to comment on it, other than, "You looked happy."

"We were," Alfons replied with a nostalgic half-smile. "This was taken in 1913… the war hadn't happened yet. Our families were still whole."

The way that Alfons talked about his brother – the reverence and the love – reminded Edward all too much of Alphonse.

It was torture, living with someone who wasn't his little brother, but at the same time, _was_… but he couldn't leave. He had a feeling that Alfons felt the same way, more or less, about him.

"His name was Eduard," Alfons said one day, seemingly out of nowhere. He pronounced "Eduard" like "Edoo-art" and not "Edvahrt" like he pronounced Edward's name.

"Huh?"

"My brother. His name was Eduard. He looked a lot like you, too. He had shorter hair, and he was a little taller, and his eyes were brown, but he looked like you."

Sometimes, Edward couldn't take the similarities between Alfons and Alphonse.


End file.
